


For Your Eyes Only

by sentinel28II



Series: One Night in Atlas [9]
Category: RWBY
Genre: F/M, Not blaming Atlas' thin walls this time, Team JNPR - Freeform, Team RWBY - Freeform, white knight - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:29:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22023373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sentinel28II/pseuds/sentinel28II
Summary: Weiss wakes up in the arms of Jaune, and likes what she's feeling.  Could this be the beginning of a beautiful relationship? Or is it just the end of a special night? Weiss would like to think about these things, but Jaune has a bit of a problem--one Weiss needs to solve.Well, this could be fun.
Relationships: Jaune Arc/Weiss Schnee
Series: One Night in Atlas [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1575496
Kudos: 39





	For Your Eyes Only

**Author's Note:**

> Once more with feeling for Jaune and Weiss. This chapter has probably the most sex of any of "One Night in Atlas," though I hope there's some character development along the way. Weiss' clinical approach (at first) seems to be in character for her. Why does she know about morning wood and the Cowper's Gland? Because she studies!

_Atlas Academy_

_Kingdom of Atlas, World of Remnant_

_The Next Morning_

_“Yang! Oh gods, Yang!”_

Weiss lay cradled in Jaune’s arms. One eye opened. So did one of Jaune’s. “You hear that?” he rasped.

“Yes,” Weiss groaned, “and if this is going to become a regular thing, I’m moving back in with my parents.” 

Jaune yawned. “Well, guess we’d better get up.” Weiss hugged him tighter and curled up into his chest. “Nooo,” she whined. Jaune leaned back onto the pillows and shrugged. He could lay here for a very long time with Weiss Schnee cuddled around him.

Weiss wanted to go back to sleep. She didn’t want to move. Jaune’s chest was so comfortable, and his arm around her felt right, somehow. She blinked as she came fully awake. _Wait…_ Jaune _is cuddling me. I’m sleeping with Jaune. And I’m naked. And he’s naked. And…_ Weiss softly chuckled. _And who cares._ She brought a leg over his and tried to snuggle deeper. They were both a bit sweaty, but Weiss could not work up much concern over that either. She closed her eyes and shut out the world, shut out Atlas, Mantle, Salem, everything, just for this moment.

Jaune’s Scroll beeped. Weiss and Jaune both tried to ignore it, tried to pretend it didn’t exist, but it beeped again. With a muttered curse, he grabbed it and opened it. “Oh, it’s from your sister,” he said.

Weiss’ eyes opened in horror. Did Winter know? Did Winter know she wasn’t a virgin anymore? Did Winter know she had spent the night with a man? With Jaune? Would she murder Jaune now or wait a few days? “What did she say?”

“’Breakfast at 0930.’ We can sleep in a bit longer—it’s only 7.” Jaune did not want to move. Moreover, he wanted Weiss to go back to sleep before she noticed something.

It was Weiss’ turn to yawn. “That’s good. I could use a little more…” Her voice trailed off. Directly in front of her, about a foot and half from her nose, the sheets were tented upwards. Curious, she reached down and threw the covers back. Jaune’s erection confronted her. Jaune wished Atlas would crash, or Salem would appear in the room, or something. He tried to think of an explanation and couldn’t, and waited for the scream and Weiss yelling that he was a pervert.

“Oh,” Weiss said. “So that must be what guys call ‘morning wood,’ then.” 

“Uh, yeah,” Jaune replied, relieved that she didn’t sound angry. He had indeed woken up with morning wood, though it had been more semi-hard than full mast; Weiss rubbing her leg over his was what brought it fully erect. “Sorry,” he added.

“Don’t apologize, Jaune. This is a normal physiological response for men.” Weiss worked her way down Jaune’s chest, and to his utter mortification, she was studying it with clinical attention. Weiss, for her part, was indeed fascinated. She hadn’t really seen much of it the night before—most of the time, her back had been to him, and she had not watched him enter her so much as she felt it. She guessed its length to be between six and seven inches long. From what she understood from books—and the occasional guilty glance at the internet—pretty much everything about Jaune’s penis was average, from its length, to its girth, to the angle it rose from his blonde pubic hair. _And yet,_ Weiss thought, _that was in me last night. That was what took my virginity._ She flushed red. _And, my ancestors help me, I want it in me again._ _I want to feel the way he made me feel last night. I want to hear him say my name like he did last night. I want to wake up like I just did, in Jaune Arc’s arms._

Was this love? Weiss considered the problem, while still staring at Jaune’s penis, much to his chagrin. She didn’t think so. What she was feeling was probably lust. Jaune had shown her what she had been missing, and now she wanted more. Weiss found herself sympathizing with Blake. No wonder she and Yang were back at it. 

Still, lust didn’t explain why she wanted to wake up in Jaune’s arms some more. She had slept so well. For the first time in awhile, Weiss felt well-rested. Jaune had done that, too.

_That’s interesting,_ Weiss thought to herself, then returned her attention back to Jaune’s erection. It was beating in time with his heart, visibly so. The foreskin had rolled back entirely. She had an impulse to touch it, so she did. It surged in her hand, and Jaune let out something between a squeak and a groan. She turned her head to look back at him. “Jaune, would you…like me to take care of this?”

“Uh…well…”

“I do feel that I owe you for last night. You did most of the work, and I was kind of a, well, a dolt.” Jaune did not trust himself to speak; he gave a quick nod. “Very well, then.” Still lying on his chest, her white hair a fan across it, she began moving her hand up and down. 

Jaune, for his part, tried desperately to think of something else. Weiss Schnee was giving him a handjob—he didn’t want to call it that, because it seemed wrong somehow, but that’s what it was—and he didn’t want to explode on the third or so stroke. Worse, he was looking at the back of her head, at that beautiful ivory hair, the curve of her back, down to where it disappeared under the covers, everything hidden from view. _Okay, Jaune,_ he thought to himself, _let’s…let’s think about…weapons. Yeah, weapons! Like Team RWBY’s weapons. Weiss’ breasts. Under your hands last night. No, dammit! Think about weapons. Let’s see, Ruby has Crescent Rose, Yang has Ember Celica, Weiss has the most beautiful body in existence, Blake has—stop that!_

Weiss was secretly enjoying watching her fingers go up and down, and how Jaune would slightly rise to meet the downstroke. She craned her head around and noticed his testicles were tightening up. _Hmm. It won’t be long now, Weiss. But there’s something else I think I want to try. After all, who knows when or if I’ll get to do this again?_

She rose to all fours, at right angles to him, pulled her hair back, and tentatively reached out with her tongue to run it over the head.

Jaune quickly thought of Cardin Winchester and the Ursa to keep from ejaculating on the spot. He remembered what happened with Pyrrha, and then felt guilty for thinking about Pyrrha. _Oh, please,_ he begged whoever might be listening, _not again._ He felt himself twitch in her hand, and Weiss stared as a tiny drop of clear fluid appeared at the tip. _Do I want to?_ she asked herself, and then did it, leaning down to lick the drop away. It tasted salty. _Well, if I’m going to be so debased as to taste his Cowper’s Fluid, then I might as well do the rest. If not, Weiss, you’ll wish you had tomorrow._

And Weiss gently placed the head of Jaune’s member in her mouth. It filled it, and she ran her tongue underneath the head’s base. Jaune tasted sweaty, and not particularly pleasant. She could feel him throbbing insistently in her mouth, and wasn’t sure if that was something she liked or not. 

“Weiss!” Jaune warned her. He could feel it rising, and knew he was going to end up blasting right down her throat. Then cursed himself for thinking about that, because now there was no stopping it. “Weiss, you—“

Weiss pulled her mouth free, then gave one last upward stroke. Jaune’s whole body stiffened. “Weiss…” he moaned, and he came straight into the air, narrowly missing her face on the way up and her hair on the way down. Weiss took her hand away, and was fascinated as Jaune’s penis jerked on its own, sending white strings across his chest, the floor, and across his legs. None got on her. It gradually stopped, settling to a gentle throb, and more spilled out as he became softer. 

“What a mess,” she said with a smile.

“Sorry,” Jaune breathed. He felt like he’d run a marathon, though he’d definitely taken first prize.

Weiss hesitated for a moment, wondered why, then threw off the covers and walked naked to the bathroom. Jaune watched wide-eyed, both going and returning. She had a handful of toilet paper, and gently she dried him off, as well as the carpet, then tossed it into the wastebasket. Weiss couldn’t help but notice the other tissue in there, which she knew covered the condom he had used. _Oh, damn,_ she thought, because now she kind of wanted to make love again. Or have sex. Which was it? Weiss asked herself. Either way, she wished Jaune had another condom. She was tempted to go wake up Nora again, but knowing her luck, Penny was still wandering around, and she didn’t really want to deal with Nora at the moment. _Holy shit, Weiss,_ Nora would say, _give the poor boy a break!_

Slightly embarrassed, Weiss turned away from Jaune and put a finger between her nether lips. It came back wet. “That’s…going to be a problem,” she whispered.

“What’s that?” Jaune had gotten his breath back. Near as he could tell, there were no problems. Cinder Fall could crash through the door at that moment, and Jaune would just smile and tell her to do her worst. 

Weiss sighed. She might as well show him. She no longer had any secrets left from him, really. She turned around, blushing. “I’m…er…well…I’m aroused.” Jaune nodded, having noticed that himself. The nipples on her smallish breasts were hard. She looked pained. “We don’t have any condoms left.” Then she glanced at his flaccid member. “And you’re probably not going to be ready in any case.” Mentally, Weiss did some quick calculation. Was today a safe day? A safe-ish day? Could she risk it? Would Jaune agree?

Jaune Arc was many things: Huntsman (for all intents and purposes), the male heir to the Arc family name (no matter that it had fallen somewhat on hard times), graduate of Beacon Academy (sort of). But above all, he had been raised a gentleman, despite the best efforts of his seven sisters. “I got an idea,” he said.

“Oh, good,” Weiss replied with genuine happiness, because Jaune’s last idea the night before had been rather excellent.

“Come here.” He patted the bed next to him. Weiss went around. “Lay down on your stomach.” 

“Jaune, you can’t already be ready—“

“Not that. Just lay down.” 

Weiss did, feeling a bit stupid. “Stretch out.” She did so, and laid her head on her arms. “Now just relax.” That had been good advice the night before, so Weiss tried to. 

Jaune crackled his knuckles, which really wasn’t necessary but seemed the thing to do, and put his hands on her shoulders, under her hair. Carefully, he began kneading them, pressing his thumbs into her pale skin, working his fingers over to her neck. “How’s that?”

“That’s nice, actually.”

“Good.” He kept massaging her shoulders, then left off to work on her back, using the base of his palm. He was surprised at the muscles in her back. They were not like Nora’s, or like the giantess that was part of Ace Ops, but they were there. They’d all filled out on the road from Beacon. Without warning, there was a pop as he went halfway down her back. “Mm!” Weiss grunted. 

“You okay?” Jaune stopped.

“Yes, very much so. That was actually bothering me. Keep going.”

He did. He went down her back, then, with a gulp, massaged the rounded mounds of her rear. Then he went to work on her legs. By the time Jaune started on her arms, Weiss was purring under his touch. “Mmm, Jaune,” she said languidly. “You’re in the wrong line of work. You should be a masseuse. Where did you learn this?”

“Beacon, actually. I took a class there.” _For Pyrrha._ The thought came unbidden in his mind. For a moment, he was not massaging Weiss Schnee’s arm, and there was a fan of red, not white hair across that slender back. He paused. _Stop it, Jaune. She wouldn’t want you to keep thinking about her. She would say ‘Jaune, you need to pay attention to Weiss. She’s so lovely.’_ He could almost hear the lilting Mistrali accent. 

“Jaune?” Weiss asked.

He began the massage again. “Sorry.”

She smiled, because she understood. “Now we probably need to work on my front,” Weiss said.

“Um…” Jaune blushed. “We actually didn’t cover that part.” 

Weiss turned over anyway. “Think of this as the graduate course.”

Jaune’s breath caught in her throat. He’d been seeing Weiss naked for the past thirty minutes, to say nothing of last night—he stirred a little at the thought of her ballerina pose—but he was not getting tired of it. She lay full length in front of him, looking up at him with a gentle smile on her face. Once more, Jaune decided he could die without regrets, because he had never seen anything as beautiful as Weiss Schnee’s nude form, and that smile for his eyes alone.

She reached up and put a hand behind his neck, drawing him down into the kiss. Weiss was not sure about oral, but she was very sure she liked being kissed. “Jaune,” she whispered, “I want you.”

“I can’t,” he said, though he wanted nothing more than that. “I shouldn’t.”

“Well,” Weiss told him, staring up at him with those depthless blue eyes, “use your imagination.”

“Imagination,” he repeated. “Okay.” He carefully pulled her closer to the center of the bed—he didn’t want to repeat falling off again, and in the back of his mind heard Pyrrha’s laughter—and straddled her. Weiss reached for his member, which was somewhat hard again, but he returned her hands to her side. “Don’t move, Weiss. Please.”

And using his imagination, Jaune kissed her lips. Then he kissed her neck. Then he kissed the hollow between her breasts. Then both nipples. Then her navel. Then the pink scar where Cinder’s spear had nearly killed her—he kissed that twice, to soothe any pain there, fighting off a sudden surge of anger at the woman who twice had either taken or tried to take someone he loved away from him. Jaune took a breath, banished Cinder to a corner of his mind, and went back to the task at hand, and arrived at his destination. 

Weiss was taking some deep breaths of her own. To remain still, not to squirm as Jaune’s lips traveled her body, was tougher than any glyph she had ever cast. “Are you sure,” she rasped, “you’ve only done this twice before?” Jaune smiled and nodded. “Where did you learn this?”

_Internet,_ he wanted to say, but instead, he leaned forward and gently blew on that tuft of white hair. Weiss could not suppress a jolt. Then Jaune took his fingers and ran them on either side of her labia, as he had the night before; just like then, Weiss was already wet and ready. He ran one finger down her cleft, and she jumped. Seeing what was before him, Jaune was tempted beyond reason to thrust into her; he was hard as a rock now. He wanted that feeling again, of her clamping down on him, of Weiss thrashing as she shouted his name…

Jaune pulled himself back from the brink. He couldn’t do that. Weiss would let him, he knew, but he couldn’t do that. Instead, he settled for running his tongue over those folds. He was abruptly reminded that he’d never done this to Weiss—that no one ever had—when she stiffened the same way he had.

Weiss’ eyes were wide as Jaune licked her again. _What is he doing?_ she thought. _I know what he’s doing, but it’s…so…_ Weiss stopped thinking as Jaune began rubbing her clitoris. Her thighs spasmed, coming together, her knees nearly hitting his head, but Jaune kept up, combining his tongue and fingers.

Weiss had thought she would never know pleasure again like she had during the night. She was wrong. Her fists beat on the bed, then cupped her breasts, then ran over her stomach, then gripped at Jaune’s hair. Her eyes were squeezed shut to the point of tears, and her breathing was strained and heavy. She unashamedly pressed herself into Jaune’s face, into that questing tongue and fingers. She babbled nonsense, but finally one coherent thought formed in Weiss’ brain: she was going to outdo Blake whether she liked it or not. There was no stopping it. The rubber band in her stomach was being stretched to its breaking point. 

And it snapped.

“ _JAUNE! OHHH, JAUNE!”_ she screamed, and didn’t care who heard her. She didn’t care if her cry of fulfillment carried as far as Schnee Manor, and her parents knew exactly who was making love to their youngest daughter, who had just made her come with such intensity that Weiss thought she was going to pass out.   
  


Two doors down, Yang and Blake, who themselves were still enjoying the afterglow of their shared passion, were startled by the sudden shout. “That’s…that’s Weiss,” Blake said in amazement.

Yang laughed. “Told you she left her room. I didn’t know she’d gone to see Jaune. Well, well.” She hugged Blake. “Good for them.”

“You don’t think…” Blake began.

“What?”

“That we gave her the idea?”

One door down, Ruby blearily raised her head and looked at the clock. “What the actual hell…it’s 7:45 in the frigging morning. Dammit, Jaune, give her a rest…” She pulled the covers over her naked body, because while Ruby had not gone to see Oscar, she had certainly thought extensively of doing so.

Across the hall, Nora stirred in her sleep. So did Ren. He propped himself up on one elbow, and looked over his shoulder at Nora. “Nora? Was that Weiss?”

“Mmm-hmm,” she murmured sleepily, still holding onto him. “And now you know, Weiss,” she said with a yawn. “And now you know.”

“Know what?” Ren asked.

“What it’s like.”

Ren settled back down to the pillows. He thought for a moment, then smiled. “And you too, Jaune,” he whispered. “Well done, my friend.”

Jaune held Weiss as she sighed. “Jaune…you…” She spread her hands helplessly, unable to think of an adequate analogy.

“You’re welcome,” he said with complete sincerity, and Weiss laughed. She rubbed her eyes, and was surprised to see tears on her fingers. “You’re crying?” he asked.

“You didn’t hurt me. I’m not sad. In fact…I don’t think I’ve ever felt so…happy.” The word didn’t seem right, but Weiss couldn’t think of anything better. “You make me happy, Jaune.”

“I guess I did.” He lay down next to her. Their feet were actually up on the pillows now. “I’m glad.” He smiled sheepishly at her. “Of course, I think everyone _else_ knows I made you happy.”

“Who cares,” Weiss said. She felt free, more free than she ever had before. “Why should Yang and Blake have all the fun?” She reached out and stroked his face, feeling the thin stubble there. _I could get used to waking up next to that face. I really could. Do I love him?_ Weiss asked herself. _I don’t know what that is, and I doubt I’m going to after one night. But I easily_ could _love Jaune Arc._

Jaune was asking himself the same question, and coming to a slightly different conclusion. He _did_ love Weiss Schnee—at least, he thought he did. He just wasn’t sure what that meant yet, if it was actual love, or just because he loved touching that beautiful body and listening to her wonderful voice. He certainly looked forward to finding out. 

“Jaune,” she said softly. 

“What?” It came out a little higher than he meant, because he wondered if there was a confession about to follow.

“You’re hard again.”

He scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. “Um, yeah. Seeing you does that to me.”

Weiss laughed. “I’m flattered, but don’t do it in combat. The Grimm would never understand.” She got to her knees and shuffled backwards, then took matters in hand, as it were. “Let’s hope this doesn’t lead to some sort of cycle, or we’ll never make it to breakfast. My sister would be upset.”

Jaune softened a little, at the thought of Winter Schnee finding out who had deflowered her sister. “Your sister is going to murder me.”

“I doubt it. My sister has _no_ room to complain. I have a good feeling she didn’t spend last night alone either.” She wagged a finger at him. “Now be quiet and let me work.”

And with fingers and lips, Weiss did.

**Author's Note:**

> D'awww. She likes him. I'm not going any further than that for now, because I don't think people fall in love after one night of lovemaking. If Weiss and Jaune end up together on a permanent basis, they have more work to do, and they're both mature enough to realize it. I do think Jaune would think of Pyrrha without meaning to; he still loves Miss Nikos, but Pyrrha would want him to move on. He'll get there.
> 
> Poor Ruby. She's never getting any sleep. And it's about time Ren and Nora got woken up by something. They must sleep like rocks. 
> 
> One more chapter and "One Night in Atlas" will be over. Get ready for the most awkward breakfast in the history of Remnant. And Salem still has yet to make an appearance...but she's going to.


End file.
